Daniel Phantom
by earlschibiangel
Summary: The ship docks and Daniel disappears among the darkness as several sailors embark on their journey to find a woman to pleasure them or to sleep with as they had spent several months without the touch of a woman's comfort. The young male from before follows Daniel out. "Mr Phantom?" he questions. "Is everything okay?" Dan shakes his head. "I feel shadows from this place...
1. Chapter 1

Okay, I know that for some of you who have seen the movie this is going to be pretty much word for word and scene for scene, for the most part. I will change some items and names, of course, to make it Danny Phantom related. :) I love Danny Phantom and Dan Phantom is one of my ABSOLUTE fave villains! I thought to myself when I watched Sweeny Todd that they were just toooooo similar and Dan would just fit right in there. Both men went evil because of their loved one, their other half, and sought revenge on those that they felt had done that love in. Hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

Amiss the fog a ship floated into shore, the mast a white flag upon the darkness. Around him the lights a dim sight as another young male sings about his travels around the wide world.

I have sailed the world  
beheld its wonders  
from the Dardanelles,  
to the mountains of Peru,  
But there's no place like London!  
I feel home again...  
I could hear the city bells ring...  
Whatever would I do?  
No there's...

An older male, worn out looking with dark circles under his eyes and a dark appearance about him.

"No, there is no place like London!" he states in an almost sing songy voice, save for the underlying anger in his tone. The younger male looks to him in question, his voice saying as much as he whispered the older male's name. "You are still young," is his response. "You will learn." The older male walks past him, toward the edge of the boat. His hair is jet black, with just a streak of white in it, though he still appears to be quite young in his appearance you can tell that he has seen it all. He continues to sing of the place he knew...a place that had burned him and taken all that he loved away from him for no reason other than the man that had imprisoned him. The evil judge.

The ship docks and Daniel disappears among the darkness as several sailors embark on their journey to find a woman to pleasure them or to sleep with as they had spent several months without the touch of a woman's comfort. The young male from before follows Daniel out.

"Mr Phantom?" he questions. "Is everything okay?" Dan shakes his head.

"I feel shadows from this place...from these streets."

"Shadows?"

"Ghosts." He takes a few steps forward. "There was a barber and his wife...and she was beautiful! A foolish barber and his wife...she was his reason and his life...She was beautiful and virtuous!" In his mind he was back to the days of his happiness. The time in which he and the love of his life were walking thru the flowers of the local market, him pushing a baby carriage around with a small dark haired child smiling up at him. "And he was...naive. " The pair of young parents looked down upon their young child, both so in love and oblivious to the world around them. The small child looked happily at her father as her mother held her close. The world seemed perfect for the trio..so great as if the sun would shine forever on the beautiful family.

"There was another man who saw that she was beautiful." Another dark haired male skulked in the shadows watching the young couple coo over their child. "A pious vulture of the law. Who, the the gesture of his claw removed the barber from his plate. Then there was nothing but to wait." A rough looking male appeared at the side of the dark haired male, his hair lighter than his master's, a smirk appearing on his face as the other male whispered something to him. Disappearing into the darkness the other male focused on the couple as a pair of officers came out of nowhere and rushed to the family who moments before had been enjoying their life. They took down the barber with a thump of their club, the young wife holding her child closer as her husband was taken away. "And she would fall. So soft, so young. So lost and, oh, so beautiful!"

Dan found himself back in the same shadows of the dock, his lips twisting in effort not to cry out his anger.

"And the lady, sir, did she succumb?" the younger male queered. He waited as Dan, without turning toward him, responded.

"Oh, that was many years ago. I doubt if anyone would know." He turned now, his face half lit by the lanterns that glowed around them. Still he only glanced at the other male, keeping his head down for the most part. He didn't seem to want to make eye contact, but even though he didn't do that he still thanked the young man.

"I'd like to thank you, Tucker. If you hadn't spotted me, I'd be lost on the ocean still."

"Will I see you again?" Tucker asked, not moving toward Daniel at first, until Dan responded to his question. "You might find me if you like. Around Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder." Dan looked out onto the skies above London. The grey clouds hovered over the city, as if knowing what had come upon it's shores. Tucker stuck out his hand to the man whom he had saved.

"Until then, my friend," he said, but Dan ignored him, taking small steps out into the streets of his former home. His shoes could be heard on the cobblestone streets as he headed for a place unknown to his savior. As he walked quickly now down the darkened streets he muttered something dark under his breath.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit. And it's filled with people who are filled with shit. And the vermin of the world inhabit it." Dan walks quickly thru streets filled with drunks and homeless bums, occasionally passing a house of ill repute before coming to stop at a corner where a dark building stood on the corner, people walking past if as if it weren't there. It was still dark about Dan, the skies a murky grey with smoke towers that filled the air with smog. Walking across the street he entered the shop, a young woman behind the counter working to cut something on the board in front of her not even lifting her head. Her dark hair was a mess around her shoulders, her skin a pale tan color and her clothing worn and dirty, barely covering her heaving chest as she worked.

Dan took a few steps back, intending to leave the worn out and dirty shop when she looked up, a shocked look in her teal eyes.

"A customer!" she cried out before stabbing the knife into the cutting board. Wait! What's your rush? You gave me such a fright I thought you was a ghost!" She moved quickly, her feet making no sound as she put her hands on his shoulders, the dark haired male looking at her hands as if they had burned him. He didn't step away though, looking at her again as she continued to talk. "Half a minute, can't you sit?" She moved him over to a booth near the door, her hands attempting to force him to sit and when he didn't she stated again with a shove."Sit you down. Sit!" Rushing off again to her post in front of the cutting board she continued to speak.

"All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks!" Pulling out the knife she looked to him as she placed the knife on the table. "Did you come here for a pie, sir? Do forgive me if me head's a little vague," she stated with a wipe of her forehead before noticing a roach on the board next to some pasty crust. "What was that?" Picking it up she threw it on the ground where other bugs were crawling in front of what appeared to be a wood burning stove with a fire glowing in it's open mouth. "But you'd think we had the plague! From the way that people keep avoiding-" she stopped as she stomped on the critters as they tried to flee before noticing another on the table. "No, you don't," she told the bug before squashing it.

"Heaven knows I try, sir!" Heading over to a plate containing something akin to food she placed one on another plate while still continuing her piece. "But there's no one comes in even to inhale. " Blowing on the pie she brings it over to him, the look on his face blank and yet the look in his eyes is uneasy as he eyes the counter behind her that has seemed to conjure up more of the roaches she had been killing as she talked. "Right you are, sir would you like a drop of ale?" Walking away again she leaves the pie before him. "Mind you, I can hardly blame them. These are probably the worst pies in London. I know why nobody cares to take them." Dan leans over the offending pastry, his semi gloved hand moving the place closer so he can see what has been placed before him. It looks like week old dog shit. He moves it around on his plate as she still continues to talk.

"I should know, I make them. But good? No! The worst pies in London," she moves around the small kitchen area making another one of the offending food items, if one could call them that with they way she talked. Even that's polite... The worst pies in London. If you doubt it, take a bite!" She rolls another pastry into form, taking a spoon laden with mucky looking brown goop out of a bowl before plopping the goop into the round pie she had just finished. The resounding plop sound it made made Dan wince. Bringing his pie to his face he smelled it, finding it didn't smell bad he opened his mouth to take a bit as she said, "If you doubt it, take a bite." He did just that as she looked up. "Is that just disgusting? You have to concede it. It's nothing but crusting." She poured whatever had been in a glass next to her into the same bowl in which she had just slopped the filling for the pie before taking another bottle out to fill the glass. Dan spit his bite onto the floor of the shop, not hiding his distaste for what he had put in his mouth. She brought him the drink with the words, "Here, drink this, you'll need it."


	2. Chapter 2

Guest- Wasn't sure if that was a compliment or insult. lol.

Cindy M 19- Maaaaybe. ;)

Cindy M 19, Missdellusion, and ectoheart, thank you for adding this story to your alerts.

* * *

"The worst pies in London and no wonder with the price of meat what it is." Dan swigged down his drink, still grimacing at the taste that lingered on his taste buds that not even alcohol could wipe away. "When you get it, never thought I'd live to see the day men'd think it was a treat finding poor animals what are dying in the street." As she continued to talk to him, she also continued to make her disgusting pies, though Dan wasn't sure why since they were so vile. She looked up now, a rather dark look in her eyes as she continued her speech. "Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop. Does her business, but I noticed something all her neighbors' cats have disappeared." His brow raised at that statement. "Have to hand it to her what I calls enterprise, popping pussies into pies!" She slammed her rolling pin down several times as she glared down at her own pies. "Wouldn't do in my shop. Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick! And I'm telling you them pussycats is quick." The finger he had been raising to silence her dropped down. He didn't know what to say to this woman! She didn't shut up, but even while he was sitting there drinking nasty, cheap alcohol and listening to her god awful stories he couldn't bring himself to leave, to walk away from her. "No denying times is hard, sir! Even harder than the worst pies in London, only lard and nothing more! Is that just revolting?!" As he looked down a roach crawled out of the pie he had just taken a bite from moments before.

"All greasy and gritty, it looks like it's molting and tastes like...well, pity..." She slathered an unknown liquid on the crust she had just laid across the bottom half of another pie. "A woman alone! With limited wind and the worst pies in London." She threw her pies into the wooden stove as he attempted another drink of his pint, the taste making him gasp at how horrible it all was. It was a wonder this woman had a roof over her head, much less a place to, well, cook. "Sir, times is hard, times is hard." Splat! Again she stamped out another bug crawling across the flour on her counter. She leaned over the counter, her bosom almost falling out. Unlike the other people walking the streets behind him her skin had a little more color, her dark hair falling out over her shoulders. He looked down at his drink, not sure if he should take another drink or not when she said, "Trust me, dearie, it's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash that taste out." Straightening up she threw down her rolling pin. "Come with me. We'll get you a nice tumbler of gin, eh?" She directed him to another portion of the building, past what appeared to be a dank and dreary stairwell to a lonesome door. Leaving the darkness of the warm and yet chilly shop behind him he paused to gaze at that door.

"Isn't this homey, now?" she said as he continued toward her voice in the other room, one that was brighter with a lit fireplace. Around that fireplace were pictures and other trinkets like porcelain dolls. There was a nice piano in the corner furthest from where her voice came from. "The cheery wallpaper was a real bargain, too. It was only partly singed when the chapel burned down." She finished pouring a glass for him as he turned the corner. "There you go," she stated handing him the drink. "You sit down, warm your bones."

"You've a room over the shop here? Times is so hard, why don't you rent it out?" he inquired as he sat down, the woman just staring at her drink. She looked up in shock at his mention of the closed off area of the building, her eyes wide. "What, up there?" She looked in the direction of the room he was hinting at. "No, I won't go near it. People think it's haunted." She looked at him, his own eyes meeting hers at her words. "Haunted?" he asked critically. There was no such things as ghosts, at least not that he believed. "Yeah," she whispered moving toward him. "And who's to say they're wrong?" He looked away from her, his eyes glittering with the flames of the fireplace. "You see, years ago, something happened up there... Something not very nice." She moved to sit across from him, an inquisitive look on her face as she eyed him. "There was a barber and his wife, and he was beautiful. A proper artist with a knife, but they transported him for life... and he was beautiful... His eyes looked lost in another world, the color darkening from blue to green as he stared off into the flames of his past. "Fenton, his name was. Daniel Fenton." Without looking at her, without even blinking he inquired about this man, and his crime. "What was his crime?" "Foolishness." She stated almost chuckling as a small smile twisted on her lips, but looking toward the fire her smile dropped. "He had this wife, you see, pretty little thing, silly little nit had her chance for the moon on a string." In his eyes you could see what she was describing, this young woman, so pale in appearance, her raven hair pulled back, but still managing to touch her slender shoulders. In her arms was a dark haired child, it's cries echoing around the small space. "Poor thing. Poor thing." The woman sat in a rocking chair, her eyes red with tears as she cried with her small child. "There was this judge, you see. Wanted her like mad! Every day he sent her a flower, but did she come down from her tower?" The woman glanced out the window and sitting up rushed out of the room, a pile of wilted roses dark with age sitting on the window. "Sat up there and sobbed by the hour...Poor fool. But there was worse yet to come, poor thing."

Dan stares straight ahead, but you could see the hate feeling his eyes, the almost glowing green becoming brighter by the minute.  
"Well, Skulker calls on her all polite. Poor thing. Poor thing. The Judge, he tells her is all contrite, he blames himself for her dreadful plight. She must come straight to his house tonight! Poor thing, poor thing!"

Swirling in his mind is an image of this woman, her eyes filled with confusion as she is rushed down the street, the lamps giving her an unearthly glow in her dark gowns.  
"Of course, when she goes there, Poor thing, poor thing. They're having this ball all in masks. There's no one she knows there, poor dear, poor thing. She wanders tormented and drinks, poor thing."

Amidst the crowd she has been thrown into the dark haired woman stumbles, looking for the familiar face of the judge or perhaps a way out, but in the midst of trying to find the man requesting what she was told she grabs a passing drink and swallows, hoping the fear that is glittering in her lavender eyes will pass and she can find the judge and then head home. "The Judge has repented, she thinks, poor thing. "Oh, where is Judge Masters?" She asks. He was there all right. Only not so contrite! She wasn't no match for such craft you see and everyone thought it so droll. They figured she had to be daft, you see, so all of them stood there and laughed you see... Poor soul...poor thing...

The raven haired woman lay shaking on the fainting couch, her eyes drooping as she fought the feeling of being crowded by all the guests around her while the drink made her even more drowsy. It was at that moment the judge appeared, his dark hair almost like that of horns adorning his head pulled his devil's mask off. Her eyes looked at him, lost, scared, and betrayed. He almost pitied her, his look of repentant disappearing as he jumped on her, the crowd around him drawing even closer around him as her screams rippled through the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Blazingkill, I'm not sure at this point, but I love the movie! I thought, Dan would fit in this! I hope that you continue to enjoy it. :)

Cindy M 19- Thank you for loving my stories. :)

Blazingkill, thank you for adding this story to your alerts.

* * *

"No!" Dan cried as he stood up, anger etched on his face. "Would no one have mercy on her?" he inquired, his look softening as he thought of his dear wife, his dark eyes staring into the teal eyes of the woman before him. She almost smiled as she realized her inkling was correct. "So, it is you," she whispered, her breath seeming to pause as the name of the male before her exited her lips, "Daniel Fenton?" His eyes hardened, almost seeming to flash green, but she was sure that wasn't the case as his eyes were as blue as the ocean just miles from them. He ignored her question. "Where is Samantha? Where is my wife?" he asked, voice breaking slightly, almost afraid of the answer that would be given to him. "She poisoned herself." The woman before him seemed to answer him without passion, coldly, as if the life of his love meant nothing. Why should it to this ratty looking woman? "Arsenic, from the apothecary around the corner. Tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me." She looked away from him, her eyes flitting around the room in an attempt to hide from his burning gaze. And if that wasn't bad enough the next words out of her mouth were just twisting the knife. "And he's got your daughter." "He?" he growled. "Judge Masters?" She nodded. "Adopted her. Like his own." "Fifteen years," he hissed as he tore his coat from his body. "I've sweated in a living hell on a false charge! Fifteen years dreaming I might come home to MY wife and child!" He took a step toward the window, people still hustling around outside, their voices deaf as he relived his horror, his pains. "Well, I can say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker," she whispered standing up to stand close to him, but when he turned to her she could see the hate for his lost life, for the man who had had him tossed away like trash so he could claim a prize that the other male had yearned for since the moment Daniel had held her hand. "No. Not Fenton." The woman stared at him in question, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. "That man is dead. It's Dan now. Dan Phantom... and I will have my revenge," he rasped, his brows coming together at that very scary thought. It was in that moment that she realized his eyes were green, glowing brightly in her dimly lit room. How was that so? How did his eyes change like that?

* * *

Moments later found the pair exiting the side of her building, the small woman leading him upstairs and away from the streets. Her steps were heavy on the wooden staircase that held close to the building while his were light, his eyes looking around him at the once familiar streets that had abandoned him so quickly to Hell. At the top was a single door, the windows dark with dust and soot from the air around them. She seemed to take her time unlocking the door, as if she really believed a ghost would pop out from the darkened room. Once in she turned to see that he was looking at the room as if he had seen a ghost, but he was seeing memories in the dank room, the wallpaper dirty and torn from the years it had stood vacant. "Come in," she beckoned him, sauntering across the room. "Nothing to be afraid of, love." He looked lost, his eyes once again blue and wide. He took big steps into the room before walking slowly over to where a crib sat covered in a dirty blanket. He reached out, his large fingers sliding under the blanket. Lifting it he found a dirty and broken porcelain doll looking up at him. He had given that doll to his daughter the day he had been arrested, when he had been walking with his family, all of them so young and naive. As he spent more time in his lost past the woman walked over to another part of the room and moving dust off a plank began tapping. The sound of the plank hitting the ground drew him from his memories. Dropping the blanket he looked to her on the ground. In her hands was a dark item, drawing him toward it in curiosity. She dusted it off before revealing that it too was a blanket. Unfolding the blanket respectfully revealed a small, flat, black box. "When they came for the girl, I hid them." She handed it over to him, the dim sunlight outside the window behind her revealing carvings in the black wood. "Could've sold them, but I didn't." He held the box, looking amazed at what he held in his large hands. "Those handles is chased silver, ain't they?" she inquired as he opened the box to reveal several barber knives. "Silver. Yes." He touched the blade reverently. He treated them like he would when antiquating oneself with an old friend. He pulled one out, laying the others on the floor next to him as she watched closely, watching him with what could only be adoration. "These are my friends," he sang softly as he turned it in his hand, the blade of the knife gleaming in the sunlight. "See how they glisten? See this one shine?" He flicked it open, his eyes reflecting back at him and then his face as he leaned back a little. "How he smiles in the light. My friend! My faithful friend!" He stood up now, almost as if he were alone, the woman forgotten as she squatted there watching him talk to the lone blade. "Speak to me, friend. Whisper, I'll listen." She stood now, almost unsure of the male before her. "I know, I know. You've been locked out of sight all these years. Like me, my friend." She approached him now, still careful not to make a sound. He was still looking at the blade, moving around with it, but staying in that one spot, as if dancing with it. "Well, I've come home to find you waiting. Home. And we're together. And we'll do wonders. Won't we?" The woman walked around his back to the other side, away from the knife. "You there, my friend." He pulled out another knife and she moved closer, whispering in his ear.

"I'm your friend, too, Mr. Phantom."  
"Come, let me hold you," they sang in unison, the woman placing her hand on his shoulder, but he didn't seem to notice as he sang to his blades. "lf you only knew, Mr. Phantom. Oh, Mr. Phantom."  
"You're warm in my hand..." "You grow warm in my hand!" "My friend." "You've come home..." "My clever friend!" "Always had a fondness for you, I did.." "Rest now, my friends." Dan moved away from her, still unaware that she was even in the room, his plans for revenge being made with his friends that glittered as he moved. "Never you fear, Mr. Phantom."  
"Soon I'll unfold you." "You can move in here, Mr. Phantom."  
"Soon you'll know." "Splendors you never." "Splendors you never.." "Have dreamed all your days." "Have dreamed all your days.." "Will be yours.." She moved with him, standing over him like some guardian angel put together with scraps. "My lucky friends!"

"I'm your friend and now you're mine!" "Till now your shine..." "Don't they shine beautiful?" "...was merely silver." "Silver's good enough for me." "Friends, you shall drip rubies." The woman delved closer to him, almost disappearing into his hair as she seemed draw to him, wanting to kiss his neck before moving away, but still handing over his shoulder. "Mr. P." "You'll soon drip precious rubies!" It was at that moment a sneer came over his lips as he spotted her in the reflection with him. He turned to her, his lips just inches from hers. "Leave me." A pout appeared on her lips, but she left him without a word, shutting the door behind her as he stood pointing the blade out toward the city, the sunlight growing brighter. "At last, my arm is complete again." Below him is the sign for the shop he has now made his home. Miss Canals, it reads.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cindy M 19** \- Thank you. I feel like I can see it as I type it. It is Paulina, the woman who is with Daniel right now. I felt she fit the part too.

* * *

In another part of the London town, grander scale then where Daniel was at that point a young, blond male walked, a rather large bag over his shoulder. In his hands

was a book. He stood out in his not so nice clothing. Walking past finely dressed people he looked up and around him. Finding a bench he sat down, making himself comfortable

he put his bag down at his side. Across from him was a large home, more like a mansion. In the window was a beautiful woman, her raven hair falling around her face.

She stared intently at her work before her, the needle working at the stitching in her nimble fingers. She wore a lavender dress that fell over the window seat she

sat at, the sun that glimmered behind clouds making her pale skin glow. Looking up she stared at the chirping bird hopping around its cage just feet from her. She

didn't smile, her lips in an almost permanent glower as she watched the caged bird twitter. Looking back down at stitching with a sign she began to sing.

"Green finch and linnet bird. Nightingale, blackbird. How is it you sing?" Her melodious voice seemed to reach past her walls to the blond male just feet under her window.

He looked around for a moment trying to figure out where the sweet voice was coming from only to find that it was above him. "How can you jubilate sitting in cages, never taking wing?" His eyes grew wide at the sight of the beauty before him. "Outside the sky waits, beckoning, beckoning."

She looked outside, never noticing him as she continued her song. "Just beyond the bars. How can you remain staring at the rain maddened by the stars? How is it you sing anything? How is it you sing?" She looked back at the bird, her eyes gleaming with the sadness of being trapped. She looked back out as the young male stood, his book forgotten

in his hands. She noticed him, her voice falling silent for a moment as she smiled at him."My cage has many rooms, damask and dark. Nothing there sings, not even my lark."

It was as if the world had disappeared, save for the two of them. He felt as if she were singing for him as people walked around him, and a lone woman begged for

money. "Larks never will, you know, when they're captive." She looked away now, her smile falling from her lips. Unbeknownst to her a picture was moved by male fingers.

A small hole revealed as the person on the other side watched her. "Teach me to be more adaptive. Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird teach me how to sing." The blond male smiled as she turned toward the window, out

toward the skies that clouded up again. "If I cannot fly, let me sing." On that final note she looked down at him, a smile gracing her lips again. It seemed that just

as she smiled it was gone, worry on her graceful features as she rushed from the window leaving the young male worried. "Alms!" came a soft voice, husky as it cried out again. "Alms for a miserable woman on a miserable chilly morning!" Coming up from his right was a ragged creature,

her clothing worn out with holes. Her head was covered with an ugly hat that hid her face from all those around her. Holding out her hand toward him, the blond male

gave her some money, her gloved hand taking it quickly. "Thank you, sir!" Before she could wander off he called to her, holding her in her place.

"Ma'am? Could you tell me whose house this is?" "That's the great Judge Masters' house, that is." She becomes rather twitchy at that point. She seems to be uncomfortable answering the question, but still waits

as he asks another. "And the young lady who resides there?" "Oh, that's Lily, his pretty little ward. Keeps her snug, he does. All locked up," she replies bitterly. "So don't you go trespassing there, or it's a good whipping for you, or any other young man with mischief on his mind." She rushes off from him crying out, "Alms! Alms for a desperate woman!" He

looks back at the house before walking away from it, his eyes never leaving the window she had just been in. "I feel you, Lily. I feel you," he whispers still moving past other people on the street. "I was half convinced I'd waken, satisfied enough to dream you." He walked to the

bench, his bag still on the ground waiting for him. He never stopped looking at that window, sure she would come back, that he could see her beautiful face again.

"Happily I was mistaken, Lily." He picked up his bag and turned back toward the house, making his way back toward it. "I'll steal you, Lily! I'll steal you." A door to the right of

the window opens and a dark haired male appears. He beckons the blond male. He seems hesitant to leave the spot in the middle of the street. "Come in, lad. Come in." The dark haired male waves him inside and with a gulp he enters the extravagant house. As soon as he is in the older male closes the door before

following his guest into the parlor. "You were looking for Hyde Park, you say?" The older male leads him into the large, elegant room. "Yes. It's very large on the map, but I keep getting lost." He enters the room, his eyes darting around at all the books and art decorating the large room. "Sit down, lad, sit down." At this point a large male steps into the door, his dark hair falling over his face. "It's embarrassing for a sailor to lose his bearings, but there you are." He sits down as the older male looks to the one in the doorway. "A sailor?" "Yes, sir. The Bountiful, out of Plymouth," he responds as he takes the glass of brandy supplied to him, nervous. "A sailor must know the ways of the world, yes? Must be practiced in the ways of the world. Would you say you were practiced, boy?" he asks as he moves toward his books. "Sir?"

"Oh, yes," the older male says as the other taller male walks further into the room. "Such practices," he continues, almost lustfully. "The geishas of Japan. The concubines of Siam. The catamites of Greece. The harlots of India," he states, caressing each book in turn, his fingertips grazing them as if he were with the

women he talked about. He had moved closer to the blond male with each word. The blond male was looking even more puzzled and worried as the older dark haired male looked at him.

"I have them all here. Drawings of them." He looked to him now, his fingers still touching the books on the shelf. "Everything you've ever dreamed of doing with a woman. Would you like to see?"

He pulled out a book, the young male before him looking seriously spooked, but managing to sound unnerved as he spoke. "I think there's been some mistake." "I think not," he said letting the book fall back into place with a thud. "You gandered at my ward, Lily. You gandered at her." His eyes grew wide as the older male moved toward him, his face

not even betraying how he felt about the actions of the blond before him. "Yes, sir, you gandered." His tone was deadly at that point, his eyes growing cold.

"I meant no harm," he stated getting up. "Your meaning is immaterial." He moved so quickly though that the young male fell back into the seat as the older male bore down on him, his eyes like that of a shark

smelling blood in the water. His face was mere inches from the blond's as he stated coldly, "Mark me. If I see your face again on this street, you'll rue the day you were born."

Nodding toward his companion in the doorway he stepped back. Suddenly the blond male was trust out the door, the taller male pointing down the street as the younger male tried to get up. "Hyde Park is that way, young sir! A left and a right and straight on, you see?" As soon as he was on his feet the tall male pulled out a large blunt object, striking him on the back of the head.

As the blond fell to the ground again he was struck several more times before the other man state cooly, "Move on, now! You heard what Judge Masters said, little man!" The young male turned over on his back,

blood leaking from his mouth and down his cheek. "Next time, it'll be your pretty little brains all over the pavement." With that he walked back into the darkness before his bag was thrown on his face. Getting up

he coughed up more blood before heading for the streets again. His beating didn't take away his yearning for the raven haired beauty as he began to sing again. "I'll steal you, Lily. I'll steal you! Do they think that walls can hide you?" He turned around to look at a single window, envisioning her in its bleak depths.

Even now, I'm at your window. I am in the dark beside you, buried sweetly in your raven locks. I feel you, Lily. And one day I'll steal you!" He looked toward her window this time.

"Till I'm with you then, I'm with you there! Sweetly buried in your raven locks!" He walked away now, his back toward the window where his beautiful captive lived.


	5. Chapter 5

**Cindy M 19** \- I thought so too but at the same time I was like...hmmmm... Dash with Danny's daughter? Hmmm... XD

* * *

Paulina and Daniel stood on the crowded streets. "He's here every Thursday." Daniel listened as they walked, looking around at the place he had once called home. "American.  
All the rage he is," she continued. "Best barber in London, they say." They continued through the market, several people around them hollering about their goods while  
others shopped, picking at fruits and fishes. They walked only a few feet from the crowded market til they came upon a sign, a booth that sat at the corner. The sign proclaimed  
that his name was Walker and that he had an elixir of some sort. A miracle elixir. Daniel just scoffed. Miracle? Who believed in those? They stopped, Daniel continuing  
to gaze around him, searching the crowds now for a familiar face, before he stopped looking, his eyes hardening. There, beyond the carts came a familiar face. The face  
of the minion to Judge Masters. His movements were slow as he moved his coat, reaching for his blade.

"Hang on," Paulina stated, her words halting him in his tracks. She pulled him back with a gentle tug as he covered the blade back up and put his hands together before him.  
They both watched as the male with light hair make his way past carts laden with goods, his cane unneeded as he slightly twirled it before him. He still hadn't seen  
Daniel or Paulina. Just then the curtain on the small makeshift booth opened. A rather strange pale looking lad with a bright orange tangle of hair stepped out without a word. He wore beggers clothing, though it was not torn or dirty. On his head was a cap that covered most of his head. He began to beat on a small drum. It silenced those around him, some stopping to stare while others ignored him. He began to beat the drum faster as more people  
gathered around him. As suddenly as he started the young lad stopped, setting the drum off to the side as he began to talk.

"Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention, please? Do you wake every morning in shame and despair to discover your pillow is covered with hair? What ought not to be there?" he hollered. This seemed to get more people's attention as well as Masters' minion, his brow raising in question.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen from now on you can waken at ease! You need never again have a worry or care I will show you a miracle marvelous rare!" He bent down now, his audience watching his every move. "Gentlemen, you are about to see something what rose from the dead! On the top of my head!" With a flamboyant twist of his hands his cap flew off to reveal that his orange hair was shoulder length, shimmering in the pale light from the clouds above them.

"'Twas Pirelli's Miracle Elixir, that's what did the trick, sir! True, sir, true. Was it quick, sir? Did it in a tick, sir! Just like an elixir ought to do!" He threw bottles out to the crowd, people looking at the containers in question with skeptical looks. He opened another one as he walked over to a bald male. "How about a bottle, mister? Only costs a penny, guaranteed." He poured a little on the male's head, the male reaching up to wipe it in, though he looked skeptical as well. Taking a whiff of his hand he cringed but continued to rub it in. "Does Pirelli's stimulate the growth, sir? You can have my oath, sir 'Tis unique. Rub a minute. Stimulating, isn't it? Soon you'll have to thin it once a week!"

Daniel leaned over to Paulina as if to whisper, but instead of being quiet he spoke rather loud, his voice carrying. "Pardon me, ma'am what's that awful stench?"

"Are we standing in an open trench?" she questioned.

"Must be standing near an open trench! Pardon me, sir what's that awful stench?" they both asked the male next to them as the boy on stage continued talking, his eyes watching them with uncertainty.

"Buy Pirelli's Miracle Elixir! Anything what's slick, sir soon sprouts curls! Try Pirelli's, when they see how thick, sir you can have your pick, sir of the girls! Want to buy a bottle, missus?" The boy asked a lady up front as Daniel and Paulina continued to serve a nay sayers of the product now in their hand.

"What is this?"

"What is this?"

"Smells like piss!"

"Smells like... - Looks like piss!"Paulina who had taken a quick smell cringed now as she turned to people around her. "Wouldn't touch it if I was you, dear!"

"This is piss, piss with ink!"

"Let Pirelli's activate your roots, sir!" It seemed the young boy was getting worried even as he continued his speech.

"Keep it off your boots, sir Eats right through!" Daniel proclaimed.

"Yes, get Pirelli's, use a bottle of it Ladies seem to love it..."

"Flies do, too," Paulina cut in. It was at that point a sound came from the darkness of the curtains, the young boy looking frightened as he jumped back. From behind the curtain came a man in a white trench-coat, his black wide brimmed hat like that of what a cowboy would wear. He was at least six foot, same as Daniel who eyed him from the crowd. His bright green eyes glittered angrily as he looked out before him.

"I am Walker! The king of the barbers, the barber of kings, good day! And I wish to know who has the nerve to say my elixir is piss! Who says this?"

"I do," Daniel said, unhesitatingly and unabashedly. "I am Daniel Phantom of Fleet Street. I have opened a bottle of Walker's Elixir," he said looking up unflinchingly at the male glaring daggers at him. "And I say to you that it is nothing but an arrant fraud, concocted from piss and ink." The male before him struggled to hold his tongue as Daniel could tell by the way his lips moved into a thin line. "Furthermore, _Walker_ , I have serviced no kings, yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with 10 times more dexterity, than any street mountebank." He looked at the crowd then back to Walker as the other blonde haired male struggled to put a frozen smile on his face. "Do you see these razors?" Daniel asked as he pulled out his blades still sheathed in their handles. "I lay them against 5 pound. You are no match, sir. Either accept my challenge, or reveal yourself as a sham." Walker poked at the blade handle, thinking as the crowd began to murmur around him.

"You hear this foolish man? Now, please, you will see how he will regret his folly." He whisked off his hat and jacket to reveal his dark shirt and white tie as well his blonde locks. "Nathan!"

"Who's for a free shave?" Daniel asked the crowd. As two people volunteered and were sat into two different chairs Daniel turned back to the crowd, his eyes falling upon his prey in the crowd as his blue eyes darkened to green for a second. "Will Mr. Skulker be the judge?" Shocked to be called on, the other male didn't show as he walked over, the crowd parting for him.

"Glad, as always, to oblige my friends and neighbors," he stated in his gravelly voice. The two competetors got ready, Daniel placing a bright green cloth over his person while Walker produced a white one. "Ready?" he asked both men.

"Ready! And you, make sure you don't fail to follow the ruuuules," he hissed.

"Ready," was Daniel's response.

"The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner!" As they started, Daniel slowly sharpening his blade as Walker had Nathan hold his while he rushed through the sharpening, each time the blade striking the young boy's hand, blood dripping off his hand unnoticed by the crowd. Putting it down he grabbed a small bowl like item as he began to whisk his brush in it.

"Now, gentleman, gentleman. We mix the lather, but first you gather around, gentleman, gentleman. You looking at a man who has had the glory to shave the Pope! Mr. Phantom, whoever I beg you pardon since you'll probably say it was only a cardinal Nope! It was the Pope!" He began to lather the man's face up as Nathan produced a signed artwork of said pope. "To shave the face! To cut the hair requires the grace, requires the flair for it!" Daniel is just looking at his blade, nonplussed by the other male as he finishes half of his customer's face. "You slip, you nick the skin. You clip the chin, you rip the lip a bit beyond repair!"

Daniel now puts away his blade as he grabs the bowl to whisk up his shaving cream. He is slow in his movements as he glances a Skulker. "To shave the face or even a part requires the heart. Not just the flash, it takes panache. It takes the passion for the art to shave the face, to trim the beard. This is from early infancy. The talent give to me by God! It takes skill It takes the brain, It takes the will to take the pains. It takes the pace, it takes grace..." He is so busy talking and not shaving that in a matter of seconds Daniel is done, his customer shaved smooth and fast.

"The winner is Daniel!" Skulker declares. Everyone applauds as both shaved and half shaved men leave the stage. Paulina smiles as Walker bows low, scowling as he speaks.

"Sir, I bow to a skill far greater than my own."

"The 5 pounds," is all Daniel says.

"May the good Lord smile on you," Walker says as he hands him the cash. "Until we meet again." He turns toward Nathan. "Come, boy. Come!" He smacks the poor boy in the face knocking him off his feet, but still the tall blonde male kicks him into the curtains, taking his anger out on his ward. As he walks down to the marketplace from the stage Paulina greets him.

"Suppose it's just me gentle heart, but I do hate to see a boy treated like that," she says as she lays his dark coat over his shoulders. "Congratulations, Mr. Phantom," an unidentified male says as he stops before them. "May I ask you, sir, do you have your own establishment?" Paulina speaks up for him.

"He certainly does. Daniel Phantom's Tonsorial Parlor, above my Meat Pie Emporium in Fleet Street." Daniel has wandered away from them and toward Skulker.

"I thank you, sir. You are a paragon of integrity," he whispers, his voice sugary sweet even as he scowls.

"Well, I try to do my best for my friends and neighbors. Your establishment is in Fleet Street, you say?" Skulker inquires with a gleam in his beady eyes.

"Yes, sir," Daniel states, barely holding onto his nice mannerisms.

"Then, Mr. Phantom, you shall surely see me there before the week is out." With a grin the nasty man turns to leave, but Daniel has one more thing to say.

"You will be welcome, Skulker. And I can guarantee to give you, without a penny's charge, the closest shave you will ever know." With his own malicious glint Daniel barely manages to not smile at his good fortune. Skulker walks off and Paulina pulls Daniel back the way to her shop.


End file.
